


One Good Thing

by dreaminblue67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Demon Blood, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 17:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16917015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminblue67/pseuds/dreaminblue67
Summary: Dean feels paralyzed. Sam’s heavy breath against his throat. Only Sam could fuck with his head like this. The bastard. What’s he even supposed to say? That it doesn't matter? Cause it doesn’t… not to him. He would replace every drop of demon blood with his own if he could. Let Sam do anything with him. It changes nothing.





	One Good Thing

“Blood.”

Looking down gently, Dean meets Sam’s eyes. “I know, man. But you’re fine! We're fine! It’s not really that bad. I’ll get you patched up in no time. We’ll laugh about—”

“No!” Sam shivers as he says it and Dean’s heart clenches when he sees the crazy look growing in Sam’s eyes. Fuck, he’s out of it!

“You should hate me.”

Dean’s already aching arms almost drop his brother right there on the forest floor. Fuck. He can’t deal with Sam’s shit right now. Sam’s been so fucking reckless lately, throwing himself into harm’s way. This was supposed to be a milk run, goddammit! Instead, he’s carrying poor Sammy the whole two and a half miles back to the car, through the freakin’ snow, with the smell of blood and vomit so strong it’s making Dean’s eyes water!

Forcing himself to look down into Sam’s anxious face, Dean sighs.

“Don’t be stupid, Sammy. I could never hate you! You’ve lost a lot of blood, though, kiddo. Just hold tight, we’ll get you to the car soon.”

The only response Sam gave him was to push his blood-smeared face into Dean’s chin with a muffled groan—like the overgrown puppy he is when he’s shot to hell… literally shot! Dean’s panic spikes again and the mantra of “Fuck, not Sammy!” playing on repeat in his head grows even more urgent. Shit! Each gasp is barely breathable, coming shorter and shorter, until Dean’s vision blurs and the pain in his side becomes unbearable. He stops himself suddenly, causing Sam to grunt in pain. Taking a calming breath, he tries to let John’s training take over, an act that usually feels like a comfortable ritual, as old and familiar to Dean as the smell of death. It doesn’t work.

Sam lifts his head then, his glazed, unfocused eyes looking into Dean’s for a moment before dropping to his lips and whispering sadly, “Blood. It’s always been blood, Dean. I can smell it. I can feel the damned stuff all over me. All over you.”

“Sam?”

“You should fucking HATE ME!!! The fucking demon blood…”

“Sam!”

“I want to taste it. You know that?” Sam whispers, tracing his fingers along Dean’s jaw. “I want to rip myself open and drink myself dry! Every stain of it on you right now is begging for me to lick it clean!”

Dean feels paralyzed. Sam’s heavy breath against his throat. Only Sam could fuck with his head like this. The bastard. What’s he even supposed to say? That it doesn't matter? Cause it doesn’t… not to him. He would replace every drop of demon blood with his own if he could. Let Sam do anything with him. It changes nothing. 

Dean opens his mouth to speak but Sam grabs him and desperately latches his teeth to his brother’s neck, moaning Dean’s name into his skin. Unable to stop himself, Dean lets out a groan while Sam starts to bite and suck him, swallowing down the dirt and blood that had collected there.

He makes his way up to Dean’s ear, only to pull off and whisper desperately, “You look so pretty with my blood on you, Dean.” His hot breath makes Dean shiver. He tries to turn his head to look at Sam but his brother suddenly seizes up and bites down on his fucking ear with a growl.

“I’m a fucking MONSTER! You should just leave me here to bleed out into the fucking snow! It needs to come out, Dean. WHY DON’T YOU EVER LET ME DIE!”

“SAM!”

Dean yells louder then he intended and Sam’s body goes limp in his arms, his mouth unclenching from Dean’s skin, exhausted. Dean, unable to control his trembling limbs, collapses to the ground, still holding Sam close to his chest.

They stay there for a moment, Sam whimpering against his chest, the quietness of the snow-covered forest pressing in around them. Dean can’t think. Listening to Sam’s shuddering breath, and feeling the tiny quivering movements of his brother, seems to be the only two things his brain can process right now. Of course, Sam breaks the silence again.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” When his brother says nothing, Sam sighs before continuing. “I just want it out. My head’s all wrong. One moment, I feel so fucking high, man, like I could be anything, kill anything. The next, I want to tear myself open and drain myself dry. I’m dirty. What’s inside me shouldn’t be living, Dean. My own blood makes me crazy. You know that’s not right… I shouldn’t be allowed to live.”

Dean hates this. Listening to his brother’s quiet confessions. Watching his blood slowly start to stain the pure white snow around them. Looking down at the hand that is still putting pressure on Sam’s wound. He can see the dark stuff oozing between his fingers. His brother’s blood. A deep anger suddenly swells up in Dean and he tightens his grip, making Sam whimper in pain.

“Look, Sam,” Dean growls, but when he finally lifts his eyes to his brother’s face he falters. Sam looks so small. So young. Why did this have to happen to us? Why am I the only one who can see how beautiful this man is, how full of courage and conviction he is? Screw Dad, screw the yellow-eyed demon, and screw Sam for thinking otherwise! Dean lifts his hand to Sam’s face and grabs his jaw roughly, the blood smearing Sam’s already stained cheeks.

“Sam. That blood inside you… the blood that yellow-eyed fuckface put there… that is not the only blood running through you, Sam!” Dean, tightening his grip on his brother's face, slips his blood-stained thumb into Sam’s panting mouth and pushes down against his tongue.

“You have Winchester blood, goddammit! MY BLOOD!” Dean adds another finger, practically fucking Sam’s mouth, blood and spit running down his cheeks. Going completely limp in Dean’s arms, Sam whines around his fingers. Sucking weakly.

Dean can feel tears on his own face and can tell, when he starts to speak again, that his voice sounds wrecked.

“My blood… don’t I get a say on keeping it where it belongs? It belongs right here!” Dean jabs his fingers further down his brother’s throat “ALIVE! With me!” He punches each word deep into Sam. “How can you NOT understand that I CAN’T LOSE YOU! We’re both fucked up, man! You think you’re evil but you’re the ONLY good thing about me!” Dean slows his hand then and gently strokes his brother’s tongue. Looking directly into Sam’s wide eyes, he says quietly, “I need you to stay.”

Tears are leaking down Sam’s face and Dean pulls his fingers out of his mouth to track his wet thumb over the glistening drops. The smell of their breath, the silence around them, blood. It makes Dean’s head spin. He instantly regrets having treated Sam so roughly and, murmuring a quiet apology, Dean rests his forehead briefly on Sam’s before worry for his brother’s injuries crashes in on him again. He moves quickly then. God, they’re wasting time!

Sam brings his palm up to Dean’s face, stroking it, trying to form the words he wants to say but doesn't have the energy to get out. Dean shushes him anyway and starts to gather snow to put over the wounds, slowing the blood flow. He is moving so fast Sam’s vision blurs, his body shivering, the reality of what he just told his brother sinking in. Sam tries to speak again but Dean interrupts immediately

“Sam. We can talk more later, buddy… and we will, ok? I’m sorry… but I need to get you to the car and the hospital as soon as possible!”

Sam groans as Dean raises him from the ground and begins to walk, the jostling motion nearly making him hurl again. His mind is so foggy now—what the fuck? He focuses on Dean’s face then and sees the tears that are still in his big brother’s eyes. He moves his hand, places it right against Dean’s beating heart, and sighs.

“You’re the only good thing about me too, Dean.”

The heart under his palm speeds up and he feels Dean’s body shudder as he huffs in his next breath. Dean’s eyes are sad when he looks down at Sam before saying, “I guess that means we’ll both have to stick around. We need each other, Sam. I’ll have your back and you’ll have mine. And if we die… we’ll do that together too.”

Dean stops then and stares fiercely at Sam, looking so desperate, so fucking scared, and heartbroken that Sam has to close his eyes against it. How could he promise Dean that? Dean doesn’t know the half of how bad this could get! How angry Sam is all the time, how he can feel the evil in the world rallying around him, waiting for him to give in. Waiting to consume him. He can taste it… just like he can taste the demon blood on his tongue. Dean has no idea.

“I’ll try to stay, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to silver9mm for helping me with this. I posted this on tumblr but I'm moving it here for safe keeping.


End file.
